


The Stealers' tricks

by etoilephilante



Series: Heist [1]
Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: But also, Dom/sub Undertones, Filth, Kinda, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Smut, aesthetical porn, blame tbz for the retro porn vibes, criminals!tbz, do gay be crimes, inspired by the stealers, they used it first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27011815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilephilante/pseuds/etoilephilante
Summary: Inside this manor, once you enter the door, only wicked spirits will welcome you. It starts with a dark living room, messy with robbery plans covering every surface, sometimes heavy steel guns lying around, a lingering scent of cold tobacco, and a childish face smiling as he murmurs sinful words into a cheap, ridiculous phone. If you venture up the carpeted stairs, a multitude of plays will raise their curtains for you.They call it the cabaret. Feel free to get lost in it.(Moulin Rouge style, a burlesque show will open to you once you step inside the serial bank robbery squad The Boyz' hideout, one different from the game of chase they play with the police force. Like an exhibition, each room will unveil to you more filth than the previous one.)
Relationships: Bae Joonyoung | Jacob/Lee Jaehyun | Hyunjae, Choi Chanhee | New/Kim Younghoon, Heo Hyunjoon | Hwall/Ju Haknyeon, Ji Changmin | Q/Kim Sunwoo, Lee Juyeon/Son Youngjae | Eric, Lee Sangyeon/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin
Series: Heist [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978348
Comments: 20
Kudos: 115





	1. Play hard to get

**Author's Note:**

> this project was inspired by the stealer, obviously. when tbz dropped 'the stealers' tricks' I've had a Vision, so here i am with dirt and filth, right in time for the end of their promotions!
> 
> you will quickly see that the fact they're bank robbers doesn't play a major role in the story, but i loved the burlesque aesthetic of this comeback, so i just couldn't resist. i feel like i must explain that my intent was to make the readers feel like they're literally entering inside tbz's manor just like a museum/exhibition where a different play, how fitting, is being... played.... inside every room you will discover as u go further inside the house. am i being any clear
> 
> addendum: while working on this i decided to write a few other fics from that universe, just because i ended up making my own self curious about their backstories, how they met, how they got together, so I'm putting this work in a series. expect more fics like this one!
> 
> N.B.: i personally think it's better to read every part in the right order, but if u don't feel like it, each ship tagged has it's own drabble, in this order  
> 1\. focus on haknyeon, kind of hwallhak  
> 2\. hyuncob  
> 3\. sunkyu  
> 4\. juric  
> 5\. sangkev  
> 6\. bbangnyu  
> 7\. ending, ensemble
> 
> anyways, here's some sin and wicked plays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ju Haknyeon is alone in the living room tonight; the TV screen’s blue light is the only thing that breaks the darkness that has settled inside the house after the sun has set, red, orange, and yellow hues fading into muted pink, lilac purple, and then soon enough, profound dark blue void of stars.

Rule n°1: Play hard to get

Ju Haknyeon is alone in the living room tonight; the TV screen’s blue light is the only thing that breaks the darkness that has settled inside the house after the sun has set, red, orange, and yellow hues fading into muted pink, lilac purple, and then soon enough, profound dark blue void of stars. He can’t help the satisfied smirk that stretches his chapped lips when he hears the news anchor pronounce the words he has been so impatiently waiting for.

“ _The serial robber_ _y_ _squad_ _‘The Boys’ has broken in_ _to_ _Gangnam’s largest bank, reports say that the_ _heist took place_ _around the bank’s closing time, and when the police force arrived_ _at_ _the scene, all hostage_ _s_ _had already been released,_ _with no trace of the suspects_ _._ ”

Haknyeon blindly runs his hand on the messy coffee table and doesn’t spare a look at the stash of papers that he hears fall to the ground – Sangyeon won’t do much but grumble to himself when he finds their next robbery’s plans scattered on the floor, and reorganize them. Instead, he simply grabs the cigarette pack when his fingers finally bump into it, leaning again against the couch’s leather backrest while lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag until he feels his lungs properly and pleasantly ruined by the toxic white tobacco cloud that fills them up.

“ _The police force has not found any lead yet concerning the thieves’ identities._ _The estimated loss is currently up to four hundred billion Korean Won._ ”

Haknyeon hears the entrance door slam open and shut not so far and slightly turns his head towards the sound, his eyes still focused on the TV screen, and then feather-like steps come closer to him in the dark room.

“ _Only one victim has been found on the crime scene, a security guard found in a state of undress, unconscious near the safes._ ”

A discreet snort is heard from above him – pleased, petty, sardonic.

“Is it you?” Haknyeon eventually diverts his eyes from the screen to look up at Chanhee, who’s petulantly frowning.

His thin figure looks smaller than usual, more fragile and delicate with his shoulders hunched. “Who else?” he says with a soft voice, his tone unreadable, and then he turns away, and as soon as he came, he has vanished with these silent, velvet steps of his.

Haknyeon is curious but doesn’t take much more time to wonder what could have gotten his friend in a bad mood, but he does turn the TV off – he has heard enough. See, they have a rule: do not get caught. As long as he didn’t leave any clues behind him in this little indulgence of his, all is well.

At first sight, the British style manor that stands tall in Seoul's outskirts where eleven boys’, all slightly wicked and looking for more thrill, have chosen to settle would look like nothing else but a rich man’s fantasy. But if you look closer, if you happen to step a foot inside that large mansion, just like the thick golden and flamboyant red curtains would rise at the theater to reveal a glamorous scene made of glitters and thrilling tragedies, you shall find an entirely new kind of show.

And the more you wander into this illusion of satin, silk, and velvet, the more entrancing stories you shall find. This play is blood, pink lips, bruised flesh, love bites, a place where nobodies, outcasts, pay back what society has given them, and found in each other comfort into a bed of pain.

Haknyeon looks towards the broad staircase, where the long red carpet disappears from his sight at the top of this ascent to billions of fantasms. He smirks when a moan and then a bed’s creak break the silence that has slowly filled the house.

They’re trash, media say. Scums who found no remorse, but pleasure even, into sending their country into panic.

They’re paying back what their country has given them, Haknyeon muses. And they’re not ready to get caught anytime soon – not when money is still waiting for them, warm and ready for their greedy hands, inside banks’ safes.

It’s their own special show, their own way to show the world what they’re able to do, what tricks they have up their sleeves – their own way to make history.

Haknyeon is the master hand, the one who will shuffle the cards.

He lets his hand wander next to him on the stand next to the couch, this time, the only light is the tip of his burning cigarette. It does not break the darkness, but he knows the funny mouth-shaped phone curves for he has held it so often – a secure way to communicate, as unnecessarily vulgar and cheap it looks, better than smartphones.

Haknyeon waits with a breathless anticipation once he hears the few rings on the line, and when a groggy voice answers, “Hello?”, a grin stretches his lips.

“Have you watched the news?” he merely asks, impatient, restless, as he always is whenever he can torment the other man a little more. “How’s the show?”

“Did you compose this symphony? It was sloppy, Nyu wasn’t in harmony with the orchestra,” and Haknyeon laughs, thoughtfully brushing his cheek with the tip of the hand that’s holding his cigarette.

“He’s in a bad mood. I’m sure you could fix it no problem, Officer,” he cackles, amused by their coded language. Then he heaves a contented sigh. “Hyunjun, dear… do you miss me?”

There’s a beat or two before Hyunjun eventually answers with a hum. Haknyeon blows a cloud from his cigarette’s last drag before putting it out in the ashtray he finds somewhere on the coffee table, and twirl a finger around the phone’s cable, lazily lying down. “I do. But do _you_ miss me? Or did you simply want to make sure I did what you asked?”

“Oh, you know…” Haknyeon chuckles, mischievous, with a vague hand gesture that the police officer can’t see anyway. He loves it, to push him to the edge, to frustrate him by never fully replying to his demands, by making him do whatever he wants to. He loves the rush of satisfaction that comes with the power the other man has willingly given him to use him however he wants to. “You know I love how useful you are.”

Hyunjun deeply sighs at the other end of the line.

“After all, it’s only thanks to you that the shows always end so well, officer. Because you’d never stand to send me behind bars,” Haknyeon bites his lips and closes his eyes as he feels a shiver spread through his body when he says that to the police officer. “But, I do think you deserve your own special show, hm?”

There’s a breathless silence again before Hyunjun speaks. “What are you suggesting?” Haknyeon can hear a tremor in the other man’s voice and hums, stretching his body like a cat. A profound intake of air from Hyunjun on the phone is a tell of his state of mind.

“Do you wanna know where my hands are?”

Haknyeon likes to steal things. When he was a child, and when he grew up, it has never changed. He loves to take things from people. He loves to be the one to put aching despair inside people’s eyes. To take, and take, and take, and give back only when he’s willing to. Money, attention, hearts, he likes to steal all of it.

When Hyunjun is getting desperate at the other end of the phone, when he makes him betray everything he believed in just to protect him, betray the law he has sworn faith to, become a traitor to his country, just so never ever they would get caught. Haknyeon loves how the officer just gets so desperate to catch his attention.

Sometimes he likes to give some of it back to him.

Without him, they’d get caught. He’s the most powerful pawn in this chess game – the one who shuffles the cards.

“Please tell me where your hands are,” Hyunjun pleads. Haknyeon beams.

Inside this manor, once you enter the door, only wicked spirits will welcome you. It starts with a dark living room, messy with robbery plans covering every surface, sometimes heavy steel guns lying around, a lingering scent of cold tobacco, and a childish face smiling as he murmurs sinful words into a cheap, ridiculous phone. If you venture up the carpeted stairs, a multitude of plays will raise their curtains for you.

They call it the _cabaret._ Feel free to get lost in it.


	2. Red Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first room at the top of the stairs will raise its curtains to reveal a man frozen at the entrance, made still, his heart hammering, and his eyes enchanted by the figure who’s sprawled on the silk of the bed covers, awaiting. Jacob is silent, yet his intent shines limpid in his pupils, as he brushes with the tip of his fingers the red-feathered boa he has wrapped around his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it hasn't been a full day yet, but i'm posting now since I'll be busy later. here it is! we really get into the filth now with hyuncob
> 
> please enjoy !

_1\. Set the mood_

The first room at the top of the stairs will raise its curtains to reveal a man frozen at the entrance, made still, his heart hammering, and his eyes enchanted by the figure who’s sprawled on the silk of the bed covers, awaiting. Jacob is silent, yet his intent shines limpid in his pupils as he brushes with the tip of his fingers the red-feathered boa he has wrapped around his neck.

‘Hyunjae…’ he calls, sultry. The whisper however small, sends shivers down Hyunjae’s spine.

Jacob looks fresh out of the shower, his hair dripping wet along his cheeks, to run down to his collarbones, slightly protruding. The white bathrobe he’s wearing is shamelessly, carelessly falling open on his chest. Hyunjae can only watch with his heart on the tip of his tongue the way the boa feathers cast a graceful shadow puppetry show onto his bare golden skin. Jacob looks both like he’s posing for a pre-raphaelite painter desperately trying to achieve perfection and like he’s about to open a french burlesque performance. He looks ethereal, seductive, and lecherously aware of his effect on Hyunjae.

‘Hyunjae,’ he calls again with this soft voice of his that feels just like feathers to his ears. They often call him an angel, innocent, lovely; but Hyunjae knows from his own red-striped back, bruised thighs, and how he wants to drop to his knees and beg Jacob to tell him what to do, it isn’t the case.

‘Yes?’ Hyunjae eventually snaps out of his daze to answer with a hoarse, almost groggy voice.

Jacob loves the effect he has on Hyunjae. From a loud, sometimes cocky boy, he suddenly becomes a precious thing, a man who looks at him with a tamed gaze, his shiny black pupils shrinking in his irises, nearly imperceptibly when his eyes are already so darkened with lust. He sits up, feels the thick fabric of his bathrobe slip past his shoulders, and watches Hyunjae’s avid gaze follow this movement and a hungry shimmer makes his eyes glow even more. He hunches one of his shoulders, knowingly tilts his head until his cheek is resting on it, and arches an eyebrow.

His jaw draws a line that leads to a robust manly neck. Hyunjae longs to attach his lips to this spot, bruise it with love bites, and make the siren who’s singing a damning song to him all his.

Hyunjae wants to reach out to touch him, to brush his skin with the tip of his fingers, but won’t as long as Jacob hasn’t welcomed him into his arms. Instead, he balls his fists when his fingertips tingle and become numb with desire.

Hyunjae wants to jump at his throat and devour Jacob, like a lion and an antelope. Instead, he feels like Jacob is the lion, and like a cornered antelope, he recoils when the other man gets up. His ears are buzzing, and his knees almost buckle as Jacob steps forward to him.

_2\. Get close_

Jacob relishes in the way the adrenaline from this game of chase feels so similar to the one he feels whenever they run away from a crime scene. But no matter how delightful it always is to escape unscathed from a bank with bags full of notes and the knowledge that this day is not yet the one the police will win the game; it’s never as thrilling as having Hyunjae to the palm of his hand, ready to surrender entirely to him.

_Thanks to you being the angel you are, I can be the devil I am,_ Hyunjae once said, and still today, it makes Jacob breathe a fond, endeared puff of laughter. They’re all, in this house, masters of manipulation in their own way. That’s how the big show works. It’s their way to erase reality and make up their own fantasies to replace it.

Jacob stays far from Hyunjae; he has riled him enough, he decides.

‘What are you waiting for?’ he chuckles and welcomes Hyunjae’s body crashing against his with an unconditional love that goes beyond all the games of illusions they have set. His hands lose no time to unknot his bathrobe and cast it aside, and he gets close, close, and closer than he can as if the sun disappeared and Jacob became the only warm place left in the universe.

Jacob can feel the shakiness of Hyunjae’s hands where they’re grasping at the back of his thighs like a safety belt and of his breath where he’s mouthing right under his jaw. Jacob throws his head backward and lets him free access, a soft moan spilling past his plush lips that only further hypnotizes him. ‘Jacob…’ Hyunjae says against the bruise he has just carved onto his flesh. Jacob hums.

‘I need you, I need you entirely, really badly.’

‘But you have me already.’

And Hyunjae drops to his knees in front of Jacob’s naked body, his nose nuzzling at his hipbone, and his mouth hovering over rivers of veins barely concealed under the thinness of the skin there. He looks up at him, his eyebrows creased, his hands still hanging onto the back of his thighs, and he hugs his legs like he is at Jacob’s mercy.

Jacob runs delicate fingers into Hyunjae’s locks and leads him where they both want his glossy-with-spit mouth to be. Like a trophy it’s erected with pride, veiny and swollen, Hyunjae’s breath turns rapid, even shakier, and Jacob’s eyes flutter shut when he feels him blow on his cock – he just can’t help the way he pulls on the other man’s silky strands and draws a pained mewl out of him. Their hearts create a dangerous lull inside their skulls and almost make them go crazy – beating hard, pulsing like drums. They have been so careful, restrained themselves so much, that when finally Hyunjae lips wrap themselves around the tip of Jacob’s dick, the world seems to crumble down around them.

Quickly, Jacob’s sight goes blurry, and his legs become cotton-candy; if it weren’t for his lover’s palms tightly pressing onto his asscheeks, he would’ve tipped over. And the angel, just like every time the devil Hyunjae claimed to be touched him, fell down into his demise.

‘Hyunjae, more,’ he sighs, his nails digging into the flesh of Hyunjae’s shoulders. ‘Closer…’

Jacob would follow Hyunjae to the pit of hell if it was for the promise of having his lips on him forever.


	3. Golden Blades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The light is now cast onto another stage, a dimly lit room and the spotlight shines upon the edge of a bed where limbs are messily entangled, the heat seeping out of their sweaty bodies is so strong they almost feel like a steamy fog is wrapping them in a lustful bubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost forgot to post today's chapter welp
> 
> reminder that everything is consensual! warning for knife? play... scissors play??? changmin is dangerous but doesn't hurt sunwoo ok
> 
> enjoy this part, it's one of my favorites!

1\. Make eye contact

The light is now cast onto another stage, a dimly lit room, and the spotlight shines upon the edge of a bed where limbs are messily entangled. The heat seeping out of their sweaty bodies is so intense they almost feel like a steamy fog is wrapping them in a lustful bubble. Blood rushes to their heads, makes the gold of their flesh turn scarlet, and they could faint from the strength of their pleasure. Sunwoo is kneeling between Changmin’s legs, where he is sitting on the bed with a king's posture. Imposing, the smaller’s muscular thighs are framing Sunwoo, leaning on his hands where they’re supporting him as he stays sat up. He’s not touching the younger, content as he watches him with black eyes glittering with potency.

Sunwoo is the one touching him. He may be broader, yet at the moment, he’s merely at Changmin’s command. His hands are softly resting on top of Changmin’s knees as if he’s praying, begging, desperate for mercy. Even when his fingers curl on their spots as he chokes around the other man’s cock, overwhelmed by its weight, its curves against his hungry tongue, he dares not to bury his nails into Changmin’s skin. His eyes are reverently, humbly downcast, and he drinks what’s given to him like it’s ambrosia.

When he feels as though he has no air left in his lungs only, he releases Changmin’s dick with saliva dripping down his plump lips and inhales profoundly. It’s a manly, dangerous hum from above as Sunwoo continues to lick around the shaft, insatiable, that makes him look up.

Their eyes lock, and Changmin’s fingers twitch around the golden blades he has forgotten on the bed when his focus has been snatched away earlier by Sunwoo’s beauty. Sunwoo is sharp, but he is soft too. His eyes are drooping, round but ecstatically submissive. The way every one of his features shows surrender to Changmin’s will contrasts oddly yet nicely with his straight nose, his cutting jaw, and his large shoulders, but fits perfectly against his pout. He looks petulant even when he has given himself wholly to Changmin.

Changmin simply can’t resist to the ache in his knuckles longing to cup Sunwoo’s face, bring him up, and kiss this sinful mouth of his. Sunwoo whines when finally Changmin touches him, gentle as if he is mere glass. He whines when Changmin nibbles on his bottom lip and then licks at it, swallowing the blood he has drawn from it and tasting himself on Sunwoo’s sweet tongue.

Sunwoo is pliant, nestled against him, sitting on his lap, comfortable into Changmin’s secure arms. Where the latter’s figure is steady, Sunwoo feels like mush, abandoned to his own desire.

‘Look at me,’ Changmin orders, and immediately the younger looks up again, his eyes cloudy, unfocused, and yet, seemingly aware enough to follow the command, he doesn’t look away. ‘Oh, what a precious baby.’

If it’s any possible, Sunwoo’s eyes become even droopier, like a peaceful cat. He hunches his shoulders, slightly lowers his head, but keeps obediently staring at Changmin, his lashes fluttering with the warmth that comes from the fond praise. His hands suddenly squeeze Changmin’s shoulders, tight and he moves his hips as if he’s getting impatient.

It makes Changmin look down when he feels Sunwoo’s thick thighs rub against his dick, making his stomach clench. Sunwoo’s own dick is an angry red, swollen, in dire need of attention. Changmin smirks.

‘Oh, you pitiful thing…’

2\. Reveal your hidden charms

The sight of their desire, so close yet not enough to give them the friction they both want, lights a fire that makes his blood boil at the base of his stomach, and in an instant, Sunwoo is sprawled on the fluffy bed, Changmin looming over him, ready to take what belongs to him.

If Changmin is a king, Sunwoo is a treasure he keeps hidden in the depths of the sumptuous palace that his heart is. He crawls up with the grace of a snake, leaving a poisonous trail of kisses from the soft flesh above the crook of his knees, taking all his sweet time around brown, erected nipples, revels in the sounds spilling past Sunwoo’s lips until finally, he reaches his scarlet mouth to swallow those sinful moans.

When they kiss, Changmin finds with distracted hands the forgotten golden scissors lying further in the bed. Sunwoo strongly shivers, cages Changmin’s waist with his thighs, and finally breaks the flesh of the latter’s back, as he feels the cold of the blade against his neck. Their lips part when Sunwoo’s head tilts backward, baring his throat to the blades. Changmin blows a laugh right under his ear.

This one is a master of blades. It shows through the collection of knives, scissors, and daggers reflecting the room’s lights where they’re hanged to the wall, making the lights look like glitters are raining upon them. Changmin’s obsession with blades, though at first means to protect himself when they’re easier to access than guns, has now gone beyond the need to scare away the madmen who would’ve liked to get their hands on a young kid left alone in the streets.

Behind a cute smile, dimpled cheeks, Changmin hides a monster hungry for blood – it’s the threat barely veiled by a soft smile that makes Sunwoo’s heart twist and race inside his chest. It’s watching Changmin sweet talk his way out of suspicious questions; it’s knowing that this innocent voice of his is whispering lies that makes the angry storm raging inside Sunwoo simmer down to a delicate summer breeze.

Sunwoo has the keys to enter Changmin’s palace and go past his facade, where he reveals to him his hidden sides, his hidden charms.

The ice-cold of the sharp steel against places where Sunwoo is the most sensitive brings no fear, only trust, and adoration. He pants, his toes curl, and he pushes the ball of his heels into the small of Changmin’s back, rubbing their lower bodies together. It’s an opera that unfolds inside the room when Sunwoo screams, reaching his edge with teeth sinking into the base of his neck, golden scissors running along his chest – dangerous but leaving no wounds – and Changmin brutally thrusting his hips up.

Sunwoo paints in white their stomachs, and Changmin lovingly catches him with steady arms when he falls from his high, oversensitive and shuddering, his warm bony fingers replacing the cold golden blades against his skin.

‘Tell me you love me,’ Sunwoo pleads, his nose buried inside Changmin’s chest.

‘I love you. My treasure.’


	4. In Case of Emergency, Break the Glass and Use Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Make love to me, then,’ is the whisper that opens the second act of the play. The voice is soft, but it seeks for more, for tender strokes, for loving words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the 4th chapter! we're going soft a little again with juric. from this part the style was hard to keep up... i started getting low on show metaphors lmao that's what happens when u decide to write with style restrictions jdsdksdj
> 
> enjoy!

1\. Strike a pose

‘Make love to me, then,’ is the whisper that opens the play's second act. The voice is soft, but it seeks for more, for tender strokes, for loving words. Eric’s tone is nothing more than a drawl, shaken with the force of a first orgasm, and safe inside Juyeon’s arms. Like the bridge of a song, this room is exuding a floating atmosphere; it feels like a deep intake of air after swimming underwater until your lungs’ cry for help. Juyeon tightens his muscular arms around Eric, so much smaller against himself, and runs his long fingers through Eric’s satin-like hair.

‘Use me,’ Juyeon murmurs against the crown of Eric’s head, ‘I’m all yours, use me.’

Eric raises his head when Juyeon lets him go to lie down on the bed. He watches him get comfortable against the pillows, baring his body to him with the way he’s sprawled, shameless, and stretch a hand out towards Eric. He has the figure of a Greek god, nothing less than perfect. He waits there, nonchalant, unhurried, like a marble statue on display, except that his divine physic is for Eric only.

Watching Juyeon lounging with his long legs slightly spread out as if to show the entirety of his being to Eric, expectant, covers his skin in goosebumps. He takes his hand, letting himself be pulled into Juyeon’s embrace until his legs are framing his waist, sitting so low on his abdomen that he can’t help the way his hole clenches when the base of Juyeon’s cock rubs against the small of his back. It should be disgusting, how it smears precum on the beige canvas – he chooses to think of it like Juyeon is painting an artwork on him.

He lays his hands on top of the older’s chest, a shuddering sigh slipping past his dry lips, his lids fluttering shut.

Juyeon is like a wall of glass. He looks so transparent, limpid, he acts as if he has nothing to hide, and yet, he’s unreachable. He leads victims into the sweet delusion that they know everything about him, and when they’re reaching to throw themselves into his arms, he becomes unattainable. Eric knows it well, for he has shattered this invisible barrier. _Use me, use me, use me_ , Juyeon sometimes sings into Eric’s ears.

He loves to feel him, to feel their flesh rub together, the red marks and bruises that litter their bodies whenever they touch because they need to make sure the glass wall has fallen into pieces between them.

Eric sneaks his palms around Juyeon’s neck but doesn’t squeeze – it remains a feather-like touch. Juyeon is staring up at him, and his raven black eyes shine like the rear of an auditorium. Eric scrutinizes his pupils as if he’s alone on a stage, anxious to find a loved one in the audience; he leans down to kiss Juyeon when he finds the loving glint he has been looking for. Hovering above Juyeon, their mouths teasingly brush, not yet a kiss, but it makes Juyeon’s lashes flutter shut like he can’t bear the intensity of Eric’s stare upon him. Eric smirks and leaves a lingering peck onto Juyeon’s thin and pale mouth, gnaws at his lover’s bottom lip, and reddens it, while one of his hands leaves his neck to find Juyeon’s large hands to lead it to his own mouth.

2\. Show off yourself

He’s still looking straight at Juyeon’s closed eyes, at his slightly furrowed eyebrows when he kisses his knuckles and then takes two of his long fingers into his mouth with a hum. It forces the taller’s eyes open.

Juyeon’s other hand moves by itself to press between Eric’s shoulder blades to push him even more flushed against himself, watching in awe how he swallows around his digits deeper and deeper, his tongue playing with it like it’s candy. His whole being is buzzing with the sensation that they’re almost melting together, becoming one, and his heart hammers in his chest like a judgment inside him when Eric bucks into him. Juyeon’s back violently arches as the younger grinds his dick against his navel while his own is rubbing between his asscheeks.

‘Eric, Eric, Eric,’ he croons when delight makes Eric’s fingers tighten around Juyeon’s throat, and his blood starts drumming in the veins that pop out near his temples. Eric, overtaken with lust, has forgotten the two digits pushing against his pink tongue, focused on chasing his climax, until Juyeon’s calls him again with a strained voice. ‘Eric, please.’

He opens his eyes to find Juyeon’s features twisted with the frustration of having been left untouched this whole time. ‘I thought you said to use you,’ Eric snickers, but his tone is more of a groan. Still, he leads the fingers he has coated with spit behind him and collapses into Juyeon’s figure when his fingertips start circling around his rim. ‘Inside, quicker,’ he orders, and of course, Juyeon listens to him.

‘I want to see you.’

Eric blows a warm sigh under Juyeon’s ear. If Juyeon stands behind a translucent wall, Eric always hides behind a white see-through linen veil, unwilling to show more than a blurry outline. It’s always harder to give up on the false sense of security that comes when he’s nothing but a rumor to other people, like a ghost, a simple shape.

But he sits up and bares himself to Juyeon as well, his head falling backward and his lips parting when Juyeon’s fingers push deeper inside him. Beads of sweat drip down his neck and coat his chest, making his skin glister like diamonds sprinkled all over him. Eric suddenly rises up, dazzling, extending his body and moving his hips up and down around Juyeon’s fingers, and he looks like he’s coming straight of a cabaret show poster from the roaring twenties. Juyeon can see into these drops of sweat covering his chest a glitter dress and can imagine behind him extravagant wings.

Eric shows himself to Juyeon like the leading dancer of the show, like an evil and enchanting swan. And Juyeon falls deeper into his spell, listens to every one of Eric’s pleas, lets him do whatever he wants with him because he’s the only show worth seeing.


	5. Break In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The scene changes with Sangyeon impatiently wrapping his large palms around Kevin’s thin waist and turning them over. Kevin, now spread out on the soft bed underneath Sangyeon, his black hair disheveled like a crown around his head, and surprise flickering over his features, looks like a dazed kitten. The concerto continues with even more passion and vigor when their lips crash and it’s all teeth, tongues, and spit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi chap5 let's go bye
> 
> edging, toys, battle for dominance yadda yadda yadda evverything is consensual

1\. Use the props

The scene changes with Sangyeon impatiently wrapping his large palms around Kevin’s thin waist and turning them over. Kevin, now spread out on the soft bed underneath Sangyeon, his black hair disheveled like a crown around his head, and surprise flickering over his features, looks like a dazed kitten. The concerto continues with even more passion and vigor when their lips crash, and it’s all teeth, tongues, and spit.

‘I’ll ruin you,’ Sangyeon murmurs against Kevin’s mouth, and the latter can do nothing but whine, his nails scratching at the older’s shoulder blades.

‘Please,’ he begs in between two trembling breaths, the feeling of being left empty without Sangyeon’s fingers leaving him edged, just when his climax had just started pooling in his stomach. It almost makes him sob out of frustration.

But Sangyeon does not seem to be in a hurry, leaving his side to rummage through the first drawer in their night-stand. Kevin is cold without him, shivering alone on the bed, and he almost breaks down from relief Sangyeon towers him again, with a devious grin.

No matter how much he has ever tried to resist Sangyeon, the latter just knows how to break into every place on earth. Breaking Kevin down is to Sangyeon nearly, if not more, exhilarating than forcing a safe open, picking locks supposed to be the strongest in the country, guessing the numbers of an intricate, top-secret code. They moved around each other like they were on a never-ending battle for dominance, one unused to open himself to intruders and the other a master of intrusion.

And then, inevitably, Sangyeon would find the switch on Kevin’s body that would grant him access to his weaknesses. And then, inevitably, Kevin wouldn’t be able to fight against himself anymore and relent to his own needs.

The smaller’s hand flies to Sangyeon’s hair and pulls hard when he feels the tip of the vibrator circle his rim, writhing with curse words spilling past his thin lips like he’s chanting a prayer. Even now when he’s letting Sangyeon in, he can’t help but try to resist, so he shuts him up with a strong thrust and the vibrations right against this sensitive bundle of nerves, that Sangyeon is tempted to call his loot, make Kevin’s pleasured scream die at the back of his throat. The older chuckles against Kevin’s prominent cheekbone, happy with the way his lover’s nails suddenly release his shoulders, and he stills for a second, like an interlude, before faint whimpers resound in the confines of their bedroom.

‘Please, please, move, Sangyeon for fuck’s sake, please,’ so Sangyeon, not entirely cruel, obliges.

The sigh Kevin blows in the crook of Sangyeon’s ear is lecherous and devastating, accompanying the dirty wet noise and the buzz from the toy pushing deep inside Kevin, making the prettiest lull for Sangyeon.

Tears run down Kevin’s cheeks, his lashes soaked and glowing like he has lined his lids with iridescent shadows. It urges Sangyeon to be even rougher, to break him down more.

2\. Make sure you smell good

Sangyeon kisses the tears running down Kevin’s cheeks, following their path until his nose is nuzzling at his collarbones. The lingering scent that makes his skin recognizable in a million never fails to appease the frantic pace of his heart, and he’s simply more obsessed every time he deeply inhales this stinging perfume.

Of course, Kevin notices the change in Sangyeon’s rhythm, as he does every time the latter makes the mistake to linger too long in the fumes that impregnate the younger’s flesh. ‘You’re addicted,’ he laughs tauntingly between two shameless hums, bucking his hips up in an attempt to feel the toy better, ‘you always think you’ve won, and then you just have to breathe me in to find yourself disarmed.’ He punctuates his mockery with a thug at Sangyeon’s caramel hair to force him to his lips and snickers in the dazed kiss Sangyeon gives him.

For how weak and frail Kevin can look, his pale skin delicate, almost sickly, he’s a more significant threat than he makes himself look like. He’s a drug, better to look at from far away, dangerous from too close. He's a poison master. The faint odor of chloroform on his skin plunges intruders into Morpheus' arms. The ethyl fragrance reddens the eyes; Kevin knows how to render people useless by numbing their every sense.

‘You promised to ruin me, get back to your senses,’ Kevin says, petulant against the corner of Sangyeon’s mouth, who sighs and lazily obeys.

He’s obsessed with Kevin’s aroma; he’s unable to keep himself from diving back into this poisonous trap, despite knowing its consequences every time.

‘Break me in, break me in,’ Kevin is on edge. He sounds close to throwing a tantrum when, for the second time, he feels robbed of his climax.

Sangyeon’s new pace is excruciatingly slow while Kevin sobs under him, and he breaths in the chemicals’ smell straining his hair.

‘I want you now, you.’

The mellifluous plea echoes in the room like two tranquil notes before the orchestra reaches its last crescendo when Sangyeon throws the toy aside, too hurried to even turn it off and let it stain the carpeted floor, and quickly replaces it with his cock.

The scene finishes with Sangyeon’s huffs and puffs against the smaller’s cheek, and Kevin’s is only mewls and his broken voice. They dance in harmony together like this to the sound of their own devious melody, until Kevin pushes his heels into the mattress, tenses, and spills against himself, clenching and trapping Sangyeon inside him like an act of revenge, crying out from oversensitiveness when the latter fills him up as well. Sangyeon sneaks his arms around Kevin’s thin figure and holds him tighter than ever against himself, shuddering, as if he needs to feel their bodies touch in all places to regain his breath through their orgasm.

Entangled, linked, unwilling to be broken apart, perhaps it is when Sangyeon really breaks into Kevin and wins him over. After a while, he hauls himself up to look at Kevin, who has peace painted all over his delicate face and kisses the tip of his nose, gently wiping with his fingertips a tear stuck at the younger’s long and black lashes.

‘Hold me, never let me go,’ Kevin whispers, and finally relaxes when Sangyeon kisses anywhere he can reach of his face.


	6. Boys' Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air is heavy, weighs upon the room, the show is ending, and the star is left alone on the stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the second to last chapter! i guess it could be considered as the aftercare part
> 
> no sex, just hurt/comfort for bbangnyu
> 
> enjoy! see u tomorrow for the last chapter where tbz will be robbing a bank bye

1\. Sometimes, tears work.

The air is heavy, weighs upon the room, the show is ending, and the star is left alone on the stage. A sob resounds in the last room, and Chanhee curls upon himself, naked, on top of the messy white sheets, the blankets pushed down at their feet, his thin arms hugging himself. Younghoon is still sleeping at his side, unaware, pure, and Chanhee can’t help but press a hand against his mouth to muffle the sound of his wails, feeling dirty. But an even stronger wave of tears pours down on his milky cheeks, all he can see is blood on his hands, all he can feel is bruises all over his back, all he can think about is nightmarish memories leaving him broken down and without anywhere to hide.

He startles when he’s caged into a sudden embrace and tries to struggle out of it until he hears Younghoon’s soft, shaky voice. ‘Chanhee, it’s me, it’s just me,’ he murmurs against the curve of his spine.

‘ _Make me forget, erase it all_ ,’ were the words Chanhee had uttered when finally he had found in himself the courage to face Younghoon the night before. And of course, Younghoon had taken his hands, welcomed him in his understanding arms, had kissed every little bit of his skin that he wanted to scratch off. He had made love to him until punches, and forceful demands had disappeared from his mind to leave only the sight of Younghoon’s profound black eyes glowing with adoration, his pink lips smiling at him with devotion, and his hoarse voice whispering loving words.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Chanhee chokes out, his hands squeezing Younghoon’s wrists with more force than steel handcuffs, but the latter doesn’t even flinch, merely bringing him closer to his bare chest.

‘You’re not guilty. You don’t have anything to be sorry for,’ the taller says between a few kisses to his shoulder. It leaves him even more broken, to feel all this faith Younghoon has in him when he's nothing more than a whore, unable to stop seeing the blood on his hands. He shakes his head until Younghoon forcefully makes him face him. ‘What… what happened yesterday?’

Chanhee, on his back, looks up at Younghoon with red-rimmed eyes, long lashes stuck together; it’s nearly as if two little burning red suns are looking back at Younghoon. But guilt, devastation, and horror make Chanhee’s tears even more bitter, even more heart-wrenching.

‘He tried to hit me, the guard… he tried to…’ Chanhee doesn’t have to finish for Younghoon to understand, and he only sighs, feels his lungs twist and ache for his lover. He cups Chanhee’s small face, his thumbs stroking his red tear-stained cheeks, and puts a chaste kiss on his heart-shaped mouth.

‘Come.’ Younghoon sits up, bringing Chanhee up with him, unwilling to let him go. Chanhee, suddenly calmer, almost drowsy, curls in his hold like a sleepy kitten, and forces himself not to think of anything else but Younghoon’s smooth and warm skin against his, of its softness, of the comfort it brings him. He doesn’t let his mind wander past the expanse of Younghoon’s flesh against his. Younghoon’s broad figure swallows his, and he doesn’t let his mind wander past the limits of the universe Younghoon is to him. He’s the curtain drawn closed after the performance, the only thing that can hide the imperfect human that was hiding behind the character the comedian Chanhee is was playing.

2\. And then, you fall in love.

In the backstage, even when Younghoon puts Chanhee down to turn on the bath’s water tape, he doesn’t let go of his hand; he anchors him, makes sure to keep his feet down to earth. Steam is soon coating the bathroom’s mirror, wrapping them in a stifling yet protective heat. Chanhee stays quiet, he watches Younghoon move around him, and simply tightens his hold on his long fingers whenever he feels him slip off his grip. Every time, the older comes back, squeeze his hand back, kisses the crown of his head.

The younger feels like he’s breathing again only when he’s sitting in the scorching hot water between Younghoon’s legs, and finally feels the blood that soaks his hands to his forearms be washed away by the limpid bathwater. Younghoon’s chest is pressing against his back, his arms around him, as he massages Chanhee’s hand – as if he’s cleaning the stains of his lover’s memories on his skin.

‘You’re safe,’ Younghoon mutters, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. His lips on the back of Chanhee’s neck cover him in goosebumps.

‘Thank you. I’m sorry,’ is the only thing Chanhee finds to answer. The taller shushes him, his cheek against his back, and his breath ruffles the small transparent duvet on Chanhee’s skin. He leaves a few reassuring kisses along the constellation of beauty marks spread onto a cloudy white sky.

Chanhee brings their entangled fingers to his mouth and pecks the back of Younghoon’s hand, hoping to convey all the love that fills his guts up like oxygen muffling down the toxic fumes of his traumas.

The water rustles around them when Younghoon delicately turns Chanhee around; Younghoon, as always, is smiling at him with understanding and love – Chanhee’s heavy heart explodes in his ribcage, leaves him aching and in love. He’s left breathless when Younghoon starts to soak the top of his body with the warm water, wets his hair, patiently. He can merely look at him, stunned, as he takes a musky soap and rubs it against his body. He can only blink at him when he takes care of him and replaces pain with worship.

When Younghoon raises his eyes and meets Chanhee’s ocean-deep irises shining with grateful tears, he laughs and softly bumps the tip of his own nose against Chanhee’s, pink with the remnants of his earlier state, and washes the bubbles off his skin.

‘I’ve been playing a role my entire life in hope to one day be loved,’ Chanhee eventually speaks up, his tone full of emotions ready to blow up, ‘in hope to one day feel like I’d deserve soft gestures. Thank you for loving my ugly self for me when all I’ve tried to do is to kill it.’

Younghoon doesn’t immediately look back at Chanhee, so he simply waits, while the older leans down to brush his lips on his knee, and then grabs his hand to press another kiss against his palm, to finally pull him flushed against himself, uncaring of the water that splashes off the bath’s edge onto slippery tiles.

‘I’d kill everyone who’s ever hurt you if it is to show you that you’re the most perfect to me,’ Younghoon mumbles against Chanhee’s racing heart, stroking the small of his back with hands that know him better than anyone ever has.

‘I love you,’ they whisper in unison. The spotlights all turn off around them.


	7. Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Younghoon deeply inhales and blows a long breath to shake off all his nervousness before pushing the bank’s front door. His eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, he glances sideways where three men are casually talking at the feet of the stairs leading to the chic building, and confidence takes over his features.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the last chapter!! and we finish the fic with Crime
> 
> before i leave y'all to your reading, you may have noticed that this work is part of a series. you might also have noticed a few hints of a backstory for some of the characters in the chapters. it's because i have more coming! wowowow. while writing of course i made myself curious and decided to develop the characters and the relationships so.... except at least two other fics like this one, meaning with a chapter for every ship, one about how they got together as couples and another about how they all met and decided to be gay and do crimes as a group. perhaps other fics will follow suit, but idk yet, these two however will surely come. i wanted to write more abt them all, but didn't really want to plot a very long and detailed fic so yeah. here we go. it won't be too soon because welp, i have other projects, but still! expect it
> 
> anyway, enjoy!!

Younghoon deeply inhales and blows a long breath to shake off all his nervousness before pushing the bank’s front door. His eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, he glances sideways where three men are casually talking at the feet of the stairs leading to the chic building, and confidence takes over his features.

He walks to the counter with the presence of a man who owns the place and grins at the girl whose eyes shine with recognition when she sees him.

‘And the show begins,’ he mutters under his breath and hears a chuckle in his in-ear piece.

‘Mister Kim!’ the councilor exclaims, slightly bowing, her hands respectfully joined before herself, when he meets her at her desk. ‘What a pleasure to see you! Is your father well?’ she inquires, with a smile he knows only the most valued customers get.

‘Oh, yes, yes,’ Younghoon charmingly dismisses the question with a gesture to the vague, sitting down. ‘He’s perfectly fine,’ he nods. ‘Anyway, I didn’t come here to chat. I’d like to check my safe.’

‘Of course, of course, let’s see…’

Younghoon’s heart is drumming inside his chest, anticipation and impatience twisting his guts – he feels as if he’s about to get on a roller coaster ride. In his ear, Haknyeon mutters a firm _go,_ and Younghoon shakes with excitement.

*

In a white truck near the bank’s building, Hyunjae is typing with the speed of a lightning bolt on his keyboard, his face illuminated by his laptop screen. He grunts when the system resists but eventually, ‘Yes! I’m in, pigs,’ he snickers, proud.

‘Good?’ Haknyeon asks next to him on the driver seat, a lollipop in his mouth, raising a brow at Hyunjae’s screen, who gives him a thumb up but doesn’t leave the camera’s images out of his sight.

Haknyeon turns around on his seat to look at the three men waiting behind them, unable to hold back a chuckle when he sees Chanhee’s grumpy face. ‘Go,’ he nods at them, and they immediately exit the car.

‘Ah, so annoying,’ Chanhee whines, petulant, when his ankle twists as his feet touch the ground, despite Juyeon’s help. He tugs down the short dress he’s wearing and blows his wig’s long hair out of his face once he’s regained his footing, perched on high stiletto heels. ‘I hate this job,’ he mumbles to himself as he follows Juyeon and Kevin into the dark alley.

‘I hope you didn’t forget to tuck,’ Kevin, comfortable in his oversized black hoodie, teases him with a wink – Chanhee can only see his eyes, the other half of his face hidden by a mask and his hood up, but he very well knows he’s sporting this cocky mocking grimace of his.

‘Shut up, asshole,’ Chanhee gives his middle finger to Kevin before putting fancy designer sunglasses on.

‘You have the keycard?’ Juyeon asks once they’ve reached the bank’s backdoor, and Chanhee nods, taking a card he has stolen from an employee a few days ago out of the empty bra he’s wearing.

‘How’s my lipstick?’ he asks before opening the door.

‘Next time, just let Haknyeon do your make up.’ Kevin bursts out in laughter when he can guess an unimpressed look through Chanhee’s glasses, and Juyeon snorts.

‘I hate you both. Two minutes Kevin, okay?’

Kevin simply gives him an OK hand sign, and Chanhee disappears behind the door, tossing the card at Juyeon.

The corridor Chanhee finds himself in is empty, but he walks towards the first security guard Hyunjae indicates to him through his earpiece. He smirks before a false look of helplessness takes over his features, hugging his thin body, deliberately making his steps more hesitant.

‘Hi, sir? Could you please help me? I think I’m lost…’

*

When Kevin enters the building as well and finds Chanhee hanging at a guard’s arm, he can’t help but roll his eyes. Even so, he approaches them discreetly, his steps light. The man hasn’t seen him, but he meets Chanhee’s gaze above his shoulder.

‘I can make you feel good. Your wife doesn’t need to know,’ he hears Chanhee drawl out, leaning even more into the guard’s space, seductive, right when Kevin sneaks an arm around him to press a tissue soaked with chloroform against his face.

The guard tries to struggle, his hands flying up to grasp at Kevin’s arms, but Chanhee, reactive, presses the thin blade of a pocket knife he always keeps with himself against his throat. ‘Shh, just go to sleep.’

When eventually, after a few awfully long minutes of maintaining him put, the man passes out between them both, they let him go and watch him collapse to the floor with apathetic looks.

‘This one is faithful, good for his wife,’ Chanhee declares, his eyes strained on the man’s body. ‘Shame he’s still dumb as hell. Anyway, have a nice life with your kids, big boy,’ he wishes, waving at the sleeping guard, before looking back at Kevin, who’s blankly watching his antics.

‘You’re so weird sometimes, I hope you know that. Let’s continue.’

They have six guards to put down before the zone is clear.

‘You definitely don’t have enough ass to pull this dress off,’ Kevin chuckles, mischievous, with a flick at Chanhee’s forehead when the last security guard is lying at their feet. Chanhee glares at him.

*

Sunwoo puts his cigarette down once he hears Haknyeon give them the go and tugs his mask up until it covers his nose.

‘Great, Chanhee and Kevin took so long, it was getting boring,’ Changmin grunts, determinedly stalking to the bank’s doors, putting his hood on. ‘After you, gentlemen,’ he holds the door open for Eric and Sunwoo.

‘Thanks, babe,’ Sunwoo laughs, entering after Eric, quickly pecking where he knows Changmin’s lips are through their masks, earning a soft slap to his butt before Changmin follows them inside.

Once they’re aligned, guns in their hands, Sunwoo grins. Time to create chaos and diversion. Now, the real illusion show begins. ‘Ladies, and gentlemen, hands up! This is a hold-up!’ he powerfully yells as the three of them point their guns at the crowd.

The reaction is instantaneous. Panic crushes everyone and fills the building with screams and cries, customers throwing themselves to the ground to beg for their lives, workers stunned behind their desks and unable to react, frozen on their spots.

‘No dumb moves. Don’t call for help, and there won’t be anyone hurt!’ Eric warns, staring at a councilor whose hand is suspiciously searching under his counter.

Besides them, Changmin is scanning the place.

‘You!’ Changmin points at another worker, taking big strides towards her while she shakes like a leaf, pale and frightened, on her seat, ‘I know you all have enough behind the counters. Put it all in this bag!’ He throws her a black sports bag. ‘Quick!’ and he punctuates his order by threateningly pointing his gun to the customer, still sitting in front of her desk. Her eyes open even wider, and she shakes her hand, a plea stuck at the bottom of her throat. ‘Or else…’ he trails off with a sweet voice, and the worker sobs, panicked, as she stars into Changmin’s smiling eyes, but she scampers up to oblige.

Changmin looks down at the customer and snorts when he locks eyes with Younghoon’s calm gaze from above the rim of his glasses.

While Sunwoo is closely examining the workers to make sure no one does anything stupid, Eric is lingering between the hostages; he finally spots Chanhee and Kevin in the crowd, sitting between the frightened customers. ‘Now,’ Eric mutters under his breath to Haknyeon.

*

Juyeon nods at Sangyeon and Jacob, opening the door for them. ‘Hyunjae says he managed to open all the safes,’ he informs them before they disappear into the building.

They step over sleeping guards and do a quick job at getting to the safe-deposit boxes. The massive steel reinforced door that separates them from their goldmine, as impressive as it looks, is nothing but a part of a system Hyunjae has already taken down. A tell-tale click echoes in front of them when they reach the door, and they only have to turn the heel three times and pull it open.

They have a list – names, numbers, and places they know where to look; nothing has been left out of their calculations.

Jacob is in the middle of the room with two large bags before him, sitting with his legs crossed. Simultaneously, Sangyeon opens all the safes and throws their treasure at the other man, who examines every golden bar, precious jewelry and gemstone, and most importantly, every wad of bills, throwing the unmarked bills in the bags.

‘Don’t forget Younghoon’s safe!’ Jacob warns Sangyeon, to which he mumbles that _of course not, he wouldn’t forget._

They’re fast and efficient and have no intention of letting the police force get close to them.

‘Good job,’ Sangyeon praises Jacob when they’re exiting the safes, full bags over the shoulders, and calmly walk to the backdoor. Jacob winks at him, his usual sweet grin hidden behind his face mask, but Sangyeon knows him enough by now to imagine it.

Juyeon closes the backdoor behind them as they leave the building, getting back into the white truck.

‘Mission success!’ Haknyeon both for them and for the ones still inside the bank. ‘Hyunjae, erase all the footage, and we leave.’

*

Distantly, the strident police car’s sirens resound in the streets, and Sunwoo, Eric, Changmin looks at each other. Changmin nods – time to go.

‘Quick! The police are here!’ Eric feigns to panic.

‘Give me the bag!’ Changmin diverts his gun away from Younghoon’s temple and points it at the worker who had been shakily putting everything she could inside the bag. She sobs, pathetic, and comes closer to Changmin with wobbly legs to give him the money.

‘We scram!’ Sunwoo yells, and just as soon they disturbed the peaceful lives of these people, they leave.

The second they have passed the building’s door, Changmin throws the bag aside, unwilling to risk bringing unchecked bills with them. After all, the real treasure is in between Sangyeon and Jacob’s hands. They run to a black car parked in front of the bank just when the police cars appear at the end of the street.

Changmin doesn’t even leave time for Sunwoo to close the passenger door before he starts the engines, and they leave with a loud, ear-splitting screech of tires.

*

Chaos takes time to subdue, still trembling with fright, hearts hammering as they can’t fathom what just happened in the bank, sobs and relieved sighs fill the crowd. Three men are watching the scene, excitement ringing in their cores.

Chanhee gets up, wobbly on his heels, and winces as he dusts his dress off. He observes the police officers enter the building, armed, and holds a smug smirk back at their dumbfounded looks when they see no sign of the robbers.

‘Act like a distressed girl, babe, time to steal the show,’ Kevin nudges Chanhee.

Effortlessly, he does so. Stepping forward Younghoon, he pretends to cry, a shaky hand over his twisted mouth.

‘Honey! Honey, I was so scared!’ he laments, crashing into Younghoon, who’s still sitting on his chair. ‘I thought he was going to kill you!’

Younghoon follows him in the act, hugging Chanhee’s thin figure against himself, while the latter hides his face in the crook of his neck, sobs replaced with a quiet burst of laughter. He looks around, finding the officers going through the hostages to question them. ‘Good job in there, babe,’ he mutters against the crown of Chanhee’s head, still keeping an eye on the officers.

He sees Hyunjun walking closer towards them.

‘Ah, officer! I know you have a job to do, but you see, my wife here is quite shaken up. Could you please do us a favor and let me bring her back home?’

Hyunjun’s eyes are steely, but he gives a sharp nod. The polite smile he gives them looks more like a grimace, yet he plays along.

‘Of course, sir, let me walk you back to the exit.’

As they get up to leave and follow the officer, Chanhee still hanging at his arm, Younghoon spots Kevin a bit further away, himself getting questioned by another officer. They lock eyes for a short second, enough for Kevin to blink twice at him and to go back to acting like a nonchalant teenager.

Hyunjun leads them to Younghoon’s car, and as soon as Chanhee crawls inside, he tears his shoes off his feet and wig off his head. The older rolls his window down to look at Hyunjun.

‘I’ll tell Haknyeon you deserve a reward for your services, officer,’ Younghoon winks at Hyunjun, taunting, while the latter glares at him and almost growls. He can’t answer because before he has time to open his mouth, Younghoon has already rolled his window back up and started his car.

‘What about a dinner date tonight?’

Chanhee turns his head towards him, bringing his knees to his chest. ‘With Champagne to celebrate our success?’ he asks, sneaking a hand to Younghoon’s thigh, his thumb rubbing closer than necessary to his crotch.

‘Of course, anything for you.’

They wait a few streets further until Kevin opens the car’s back door.

‘Oh, stop smooching, you two. Haven’t you gotten over the honeymoon phase yet?’ he whines as he throws himself onto the backseats.

Chanhee and Younghoon chuckle, getting back into their own seats.

‘Let’s go home. I need to smell the sweet scent of wealth.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading if you read it entirely. I'm quite happy with this... my first tbz project lololol. you can also expect more tbz projects from me in the future 
> 
> i'd be really happy if you let me know your thoughts!

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked this, since it's mostly entirely written out, expect a new part everyday  
> please don't forget to leave kudos and let me know your thoughts!!!
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/mingiopom)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/etoilephilante)


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